So, apparently Chicago must have read my previous post and decided that I was being an ungrateful little . . . snitch . . . for not appreciating the self control and restraint it was really exuding.
That rain that I was writing about before? Child’s play. That was like running through sprinklers on a summer’s day. That was like taking a watering can and pouring it over a cactus in the middle of Arizona.
Last night the winds howled, thunder shook the earth, lightning cracked the sky open–ripping it apart and tearing back the pieces to let the wrath of the universe through.
Every street became a river, every road became a creek. Regular, blue collar folk got ground pools in their backyards over night.
Somewhere during this whole thing, the Lord must’ve forgotten to tell me there’s gonna be a floody, floody. I did not have my ark ready.
Well, let me apologize for my insolence, Chicago. I shouldn’t have joked about the rain. That was my bad. That was a rookie mistake.
I’m sorry that cars became boats and that seagulls extended their turf. Their surf and turf . . . I’ll see myself out.
While the rest of Chicago commuted in their submarines, I sat at home. My work is where the WiFi is. But even if I had to leave my house, I would not have needed my scuba suit. I probably wouldn’t have even needed galoshes. I would’ve been safe in some suede flippy floppies. (I don’t think people make suede flip flops–I’m just trying to make a point).
The city waded into the Chicago Sea while I walked on dry land. High and dry. No puddles for miles.
So for that, I really do apologize, Chicago. I was the one who complained about the rain, but you were punished.
I feel like I missed out on all the excitement though. For years to come everyone will have stories about “The Great Chicago Flood” and how it took them days and days to get to work. Thousands of people stranded in their cars on the highways without food–but plenty of dirty water surrounding them.
They’ll reminisce about where they were when it happened, what they saw (which was an excessive amount of high rising water), who they knew that had a “water day” from school or work . . .
It’ll be a monumental event in the history of Chicago.
And I will have had no part in it. Guess that’s what happens when you live in the suburbs.
Cheers! Stay dry, Chicago.